


Five More Minutes

by ghiblise



Category: Persona 5
Genre: 5+1, Angst, M/M, Other Characters Briefly Mentioned - Freeform, Persona 5 Spoilers, akechi is in denial, akira just wanted to help, idk what i was doing while writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23836990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghiblise/pseuds/ghiblise
Summary: The five times Akira asked Akechi to stay and the one time he did.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 11
Kudos: 68





	Five More Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly can't decide whether i like this fic or not but i decided to say fuck it and publish it anyways :thumbs up emoji: 
> 
> i hope you guys like it!! this fic can be treated as a prequel to my other fic "The Warmest Place isn't by the Fire but Next to You", they are both standalone fics though so you don't have to read both of them (although id really appreciate it if u did) :D
> 
> fun fact: i spent more time researching for this fic than actually writing it

His feet were cold in the morning.

Akira didn’t know whether it was a particularly cold morning or if it’s his loneliness manifesting into an icy chill running through his body. The thin blanket did minimal in staving off the cold from reaching his body. 

Finally, with much reluctance, he opened his bloodshot eyes and carried his heavy body out of bed. He dragged his seemingly chained legs around the jail cell of an attic now called his room and prepared for his first day at an unfamiliar school.

Ever since the court forcibly plunged his hands in red paint, he felt himself spiraling down a dark path. Constantly finding himself detached and out of reality’s grasp. To keep himself grounded, he'd pay close attention to the time and made sure to mark down dates on the calendar.

Perception of time has always been relative, subjective, transitive; for him, however, as one who lost motivation and sense of purpose in life, he’s become susceptible to letting time slip away doing nothing. The only way he could be productive was to move in accordance to the ultraprecise atomic scale of time, each action dictated by a schedule. Only doing what’s necessary —  _ keep your mouth shut and stay out of trouble. _

Akira was by no means a criminal. In fact, it was his innate desire to save the jeopardised that ultimately led him to this cruel fate. However, he often wondered whether his decision was a mistake or not. Frequently coming to the conclusion that it might have been.

Admittedly, he felt as though he could have gone down a darker, more twisted path had it not been for the happenstance that would occur later on that day. It was also then he realised how much being at the right place at the right time could save a life. 

_ If my pursuit of justice is wrong then allow me to be chained to Hell itself. _

He was lucky.

And that was exactly why Akechi despised him. 

**_One._ **

**Akechi: I’m unsure if you’re still awake but I’m outside Leblanc right now**

**Akira: i’ll be there in a second**

  
  


The bell chimed, announcing his entrance.

“Good evening,” Akechi greeted with that routine smile of his, pleasant — calculated. “I apologise for the inconvenience but this was the only place I could go.” He set his case down and sat on a stool.

Akira figured he’d like a cup of tea rather than his usual order of sweetened coffee as it was already nearing midnight. 

He faced the vast array of tea blends to choose from, scanning each one. Mulling over what blend and how would he prepare the drink.  _ Fruity, herbal, hot, cold, bitter, sweet.  _ It was then he realised that he had not a clue as to what Akechi’s preferred tea was. And now that he thought of it, he doesn’t know him at all.

Sure, he’s a famous detective, known for his young age and incredible deduction with being attractive and likable as an added bonus. But, that version of him is superficial, sensationalised by the media. To judge his character based solely on what Akira saw on the television would give him a shallow understanding of this paradox that is Akechi Goro. 

He turned to Akechi and asked, “What tea blend would you like?”

“Tea?” Akechi repeated, wondering why he would ask such an irrelevant question. “My usual order would be fine.”

Akira raised a brow. “You sure? Coffee at this time?” He glanced at his phone’s clock.

_ 11:47 _

“I’ll be up late working again as always,”  _ again with that phony smile of his _ , Akira kept a straight face but in truth, he was upset; one part because Akechi never gets enough sleep and two parts because of the wall he’s built around him. 

He sighed and faced the shelves once more. Ignoring what the workaholic had just said, he grabbed a tea blend he figured Akechi would like and placed it on the counter behind him. 

_ Honeyed-fruit blend _ , the label read.

Working with speed and precision, he spooned some of the blend into a cup and poured hot water over it, adding a small portion of agave syrup to slightly sweeten it. 

Akira knew minimal facts about Akechi but being a sweet tooth is one of them.

“I believe I said I’d like coffee.” Akechi commented but didn’t complain and accepted the cup.

“You know,” Akira grabbed the jar and turned around, placing it back to its rightful place, “you should really take care of yourself more.”

He faced Akechi and leaned forward on the counter, bringing his face close to his special customer, “And don’t be afraid to be yourself here. I’m your only audience.” He smiled before turning away once more.

He finished tucking away the ingredients and occupied the seat beside Akechi, jumping over the counter as it was faster (Sojiro would kill him but it’s alright; he’ll never know).

Akechi’s grip tightened around the handle of the tea cup. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by Akira.

He was infuriated by the fact that this boy, whose entire being is the subject of his envy, could see right through him. 

_ An audience no matter how large, whether it be one individual or the entirety of Japan, is still an audience. And I shall perform until the curtains close and see my mission done. _

He was frustrated by the fact that although he could see through his act, he wasn’t disgusted by him, but instead accepted him as he was.

_ He thinks he can fool me into believing his lies and deception? Is this a scheme to expose me and foil my convoluted plans? Does he know my crime? _

Lastly, he was mad at himself for thinking,  _ is this what it feels like to be cared about? _

He sighed tiredly but quickly returned to the practiced and perfected curve of his lips. “Staying up late is the only way I can keep my exemplary performance at both my job and school,” he replied, bringing the cup to just under his nose, closing his eyes and breathing in its calming and sweet aroma. 

_ Here it comes,  _ Akechi stifled a smirk.  _ You’re so amazing!  _ They’d praise.  _ How do you do it?  _ They’d ask. _ A star student and a great detective, that’s incredible! _ And with feigned modesty and a shy smile he’d reply with  _ I just do what I can. _

_ You’ve accomplished so much at such a young age! I wish I was you! _

He opened his eyes and looked at Akira.

_ I wish I was you. _

“Doing great in school and work is really important,”  _ There it is,  _ “but,”  _ But?  _ “achieving those shouldn’t be at the cost of your own health. Your well-being is more important than any number on a piece of paper.”

Akechi was left dumbstruck.

_ This isn’t how it was supposed to go. Where’s my praise? approval? compliments? Instead I got pity? some kind of twisted joke? … concern? This isn’t what I wanted. _

It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was definitely what he needed.

He may not admit it to himself but he felt comforted — conflicted.

It was then Akechi decided to make a so-called  _ strategic move _ . “Do you want to help me with some cases?” Yeah, yeah, he’s revealing government classified information, so what?

_ I’ll trick him into thinking I trust him,  _ he thought.  _ This ought to make him stop his “I’m concerned about you” charade. _

Akira accepted the offer happily and scooted his stool closer until they were almost shoulder to shoulder.

It’s times like this where Akechi would say “keep your friends close but your enemies closer” but evidently, he failed one of the requirements to use that quote.

It was about an hour later that Akira noticed that Akechi was falling asleep. His head repeatedly nodding, trying to keep upright; his eyes opening and closing and opening and closing and — 

Akira gently moved his head to rest on his shoulder, careful to not wake him.

They stayed like that in silence for who knows how long. 

For once in a long time, Akira didn’t feel compelled to look at the clock. He just sat there, twirling a pen in one hand as he went over Akechi’s papers. He knew Akechi was not to be trusted but he can’t help wanting to slow down time when he was with him.

The two of them having a special connection may not be that far-fetched of an idea after all.

Akira skimmed through each case.  _ Store robbery, missing person, house break-in, and  _ — 

His head suddenly throbbed upon once again seeing a familiar face of someone his memory seemingly blocked out. He dropped his pen and it landed with a light clunk.

This woke Akechi up, a light sleeper, that he is. Always on his toes, alert at all times. 

_ Sleeping in front of the enemy, a grave mistake. Worse, I slept on his shoulder. How could I have let myself become this close to him? He’s so close to me and he doesn’t even know me. _

“Ah, my apologies for falling asleep,” he laughed sheepishly, holding back a yawn. 

Akira once again glanced at the clock.

_ 01:05 _

He frowned,  _ There’s no more trains at this time. _ “Do you want to sleep here?”

_ No, _ Akechi thought. He can’t allow himself to make any more mistakes tonight. Lest he’ll look vulnerable — human.

“Thank you for the offer, but I just came here for a caffeine break, which I did not manage to get but the nap was just as refreshing.” He stood up, gathered his papers and placed it in his case. “I’ll be returning to work.”

The bell chimed, announcing his exit.

He feared to stay.

**_Two._ **

As the days passed, the two have gained a mutual respect for each other despite acknowledging the other as their greatest adversary. 

During his free time, Akechi would challenge Akira to a game of chess. They’d play at Leblanc, upstairs in his room, a place Akechi once thought he’d never be allowed to set foot in.

Akechi folded his arms, crossed his legs, and leaned back in his chair. “You’re taking awfully long to make a decision, Kurusu.” He smirked, smug. “And here I thought you were getting better,” he mused, trying to get a rise out of his competitor.

Akira glanced up, meeting his tan eyes, “Don’t get cocky. One’s hubris could be their downfall.” He smiled slyly, moving a piece on the board.

Akechi peered down,  _ an unwise move _ , he shook his head. He toppled Akira’s piece over and replaced it with his own, setting it to the side where all the other defeated pieces were. “Sad to say you haven’t really improved, Kurusu-kun.” He pouted mockingly.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he retorted, smoothly moving a piece and taking down Akechi’s. “You were saying?”

“Did you practice on your own to try and impress me?” Akechi raised a brow, unamused, taking out another piece.

Akira gave a hearty laugh, “What if I said I did?” He was staring at the board, unaware of the dubious look Akechi was giving him. 

“Then I’d liken you to a child craving for others’ approval.”  _ A fool.  _ He laughed condescendingly, looking away.

“Well,” he glanced up at him, “you’re not wrong.” Akira took the insult in a stride. “Honestly, I think I’ve grown quite fond of you as well,” he replied seriously — too serious for Akechi’s liking.

“Oh really now?” He spoke through gritted teeth, disguising his annoyance with a grin.

Akira laughed lightly, “Oh, come on. You know I love you to death,” he kid, not thinking much about it.

Playing along his opponent’s whims Akechi replied, “If that’s the case, then our feelings must be mutual.”

Their game was taking a long time which didn’t help to quell Akechi’s displeasure. He refused to acknowledge that  _ Kurusu _ was making him struggle with keeping up his defense, literally — and figuratively.

He doesn’t understand why or how but whenever he’s with Akira, he gets the urge to reach out to him. Tell him everything. He wants to open up his barbed wire heart and allow him to read every tearful and painful page of the tragic life of Akechi Goro. But he knows better than to let the enemy get too close. Moreover, he knows better than to trust one that he barely knows and barely knows him.

Isn’t that the point of opening up, though? learning to trust and building a rapport with one another? The Phantom Thieves, as ironic as it is, are Akechi’s only shot at ever having friends, a support system, in his entire life. 

Maybe it’s fine to rely on someone, to not handle everything on your own. Maybe he doesn’t have to be alone. 

_ Maybe if it weren’t for Shido. _

He’s damned no matter what decision he makes.

“Stalemate,” Akira concluded with a big smile. He was beaming with pride and confidence. This was his first time not losing, albeit a draw, he still considered this a triumph.

_ I’m the fool. _

“There’s no denying you improved a lot from our first game. But be prepared for a crushing defeat the next time,” he stood up, ready to leave.

Akira followed him downstairs. “Leaving already? Don’t you want to stay for dinner?”

Akechi hummed, “Tempting.”  _ Look at his face brightening up at that. Is he that desperate to spend time with me? _ “But I have work to attend to.” He doesn’t want to give room for his conflicted emotions to fester further and possibly deter him from his original plans. And besides, he really does have work to do.

Akira frowned slightly, “If that’s the case then I won’t keep you for much longer. Just know that Leblanc is always open for midnight snack breaks if it’s you.”

Akechi left no room for fantasies and delusions to play in his mind. Convinced that every word that comes out of Kurusu’s mouth is a lie.

Regardless, he knows his unconscious will reign as he’s sleeping and he’ll once again dream of belonging to him. 

He refused to stay.

**_Three._ **

_ Bang! _

Akira looked up and smiled hazily, “Took you long enough. Have you come to save me?”

“I’m afraid not,” Akechi replied detachedly, his face void of emotion.

“In fact,” He aimed his gun at Akira’s head. “I’m here to do the opposite.”

Upon coming face to face with the weapon, Akira laughed bitterly and hung his head. “I see.” He had spoken but two words yet the heartbreak in his voice was almost enough to make Akechi feel an emotion — keyword:  _ almost _ .

_ Why is he just sitting there? Stand up! Fight! Scream! Tell me how much you hate me. _

As twisted as it is, he wished that Akira would do something, anything, to justify his hatred for he who has done nothing. But perhaps that's precisely why Akechi harboured such deep antipathy towards him. He did nothing, changed nothing, didn't try to fit in and yet he still did like a puzzle piece made specifically for that reason.

Akechi, on the other hand, did everything, changed everything, tried so hard to fit in and yet time and time again he was a square peg. He was custom made, designer — a build-a-boy picked with the most charming of traits and most attractive of features, and what? He was still alienated, scum,  _ an unwanted and unloved child. _

To everyone, he was eye candy — a prince, if you will. His hair, soft and a lustrous brown; eyes, bright with an enchanting shine; smile, charming with pearly white teeth and his head tilted ever so slightly to the side; laugh, pleasant, congenial; his talents and greatest exploits; everything,  _ every single thing _ , meticulously curated — calculated self-destruction he called it — so he could be the definition of perfection.

To him (on the off chance he was able to actually recognise himself in the mirror), he was an eyesore — hideous, sensitive, numb, emotional, emotionless, manipulative, desperately trying to belong but shunned every time. He often cursed mirrors for not coming with instructions on how to love his own reflection.

Those luxuriances only established the disgusting contrast between his fabricated self and his true (if you could call it that) identity. If pure, undiluted malice, anger, and murderous intent towards his creator could be considered an identity, then so be it.

He was a monster. 

And Shido his Frankenstein.

“I thought I told you to be ready for a crushing defeat.” Akechi’s grip around the gun tightened, steadying his aim.

“That you did. I didn’t expect it’d be outside a game of chess though.” Akira stared blankly at Akechi, his eyes void of that shine Akechi had unknowingly taken comfort in.

“Oh, you were expecting chess?” He laughed mockingly, “Here it is.” 

_ Click. _

“Checkmate.”

_ Now, beg for your life. Convince me why I shouldn’t kill you. Throw your friends under the bus to save your own hide. Show me your true colours and how —  _

“Will you finally stay?” He asked simply, his expression unchanging.

_ Stay? After shooting the guard? Has Kurusu lost his mind from all the sedatives they’ve given him? _

_ Absurd _ . “Your life's on the line right now and you still — “

He joked, laughing weakly, “Hey, didn’t I tell you I loved you to death?”  _ Out of everything he could bring up right now, he had to choose that.  _ Of course, it had to be that.

“Yes,” Akechi inhaled deeply. “and so you must die.” His already icy tone became glacial.

Akira smiled weakly before closing his eyes. “Then let it be by your hand.”

_ Bang! _

As he left the room he couldn’t stop thinking of how absolutely insane Kurusu must be.  _ He allowed himself to be killed that easily? And did he really think we had mutual feelings? He’s crazy. Bonkers. Totally off of his rocker.  _

He repeatedly insulted Kurusu in his head, reiterating over and over about how deranged he was. Not knowing that perhaps  _ he’s _ the lunatic for thinking Akira would say those things when he’s being held at gunpoint.

He can say what he wants but his cognition tells no lie.

He wanted to stay.

**_Four._ **

_ Idiots _ , was what Akechi called them.

“It’d be a problem if you kept getting in our way. Wanna come along and help us settle things?”

_ Takamaki… I always thought you were at least smarter than Sakamoto but I suppose not. _

“Akechi,” Akira called. 

_ I take it back. This one’s the dumbest of them all. _

“Won’t you stay with us?” He stretched his arm out towards the defeated crow; palm open and welcoming, his half-smile gentle and warm. It harked back to their time together in Leblanc. 

_ Joker always has that expression when he gives me my order. _

_ Kurusu. _

_ Akira. _

This was it. Akechi’s opportunity to have friends, a support system, something he’s never had in his entire life. 

He’s realised that, maybe he can rely on them, solve his problems with them.  Maybe he’ll finally not be alone. 

_ Maybe if it weren’t for Shido. _

**The watertight bulkhead door has closed. All personnel within the partition wall, evacuate at once.**

“Whoa what is this!?” Futaba yelled as the sharp noise of the warehouse shutter slamming down echoed throughout the room.

Ryuji called out, “Akechi!”

“Hurry up and go,” was all he said. His already weak voice became barely audible due to the barrier between him and them.

Him and them.

_ This is how it’s supposed to be. _

“You fool!” Yusuke reprimanded. “Are you trying to get yourself killed!?”

“The real fools… are you guys. You should have just abandoned me here a long time ago… You would have all perished… if you had tried to face these with me weighing you down…” He tried his best to speak loud enough so they’d hear,  _ hell _ , speaking on its own was already difficult. He coughed; his lungs felt like they were about to collapse.

“Akechi-kun!”

With the way these events are playing out, Akechi figured that he won’t be able to see his mission complete, and thus was left with no other choice but to put his fate in them. “Let’s make a deal… Okay? You won’t say no… will you?”

“Why at a time like this…!?”

“Change Shido’s heart… in my stead… End his crimes… Please!”

Akira replied, “I’ll hold onto your glove.”  _ and the hope that you would survive. _

Akechi smiled weakly, “Heh… After all this, that’s what you have to say? Seriously, you really are…”

“You bastard!” The cognitive Akechi screamed, face distorted by his anger.

Akechi willed his limp body that could barely move to stand straight and take aim. “So, my final enemy is a puppet version of myself…”

_ I never thought it had to reach this point. _

_ Me? Sacrificing myself for them? Hilarious to think. Tragic to actually do. _

And yet here he was.

“Not bad.”

_ Bang! _

“One’s hubris could be their downfall, huh.” He reminisced softly, voice barely even making a sound, as he’s curled up on the ground accepting his fate.

Dying alone. He had accepted this fact a long time ago. Then he — they gave him hope, not like light at the end of the tunnel, but like light that will guide him through the dark tunnel. 

_ Stupid of me to think they’d actually be able to make a difference in my life. Should’ve known I was a lost cause from the start. _

He never expected Kurusu — Akira (old habits die hard), and the Phantom Thieves, to become so important to him. In fact, he never expected he’d have this much fun belonging to a team, a clique, dare he say — a family.

From the start, he had thought Akira was just another victim in this skeleton sunken city that Shido mistook for his closet. And his comrades, victims of others with their own bones to hide.

In normal circumstances, it would nauseate him to actually admit that to himself. But coming face to face with death, he figured that for once he can be honest with himself. Be at peace with the feelings he had buried under blind rage for those who ruined his schemes.

Too many times, he’d envisioned what it’d be like if he was actually their friend, if he truly belonged, to not feel like an intruder — too many times than he’d like to acknowledge.

Staring at the warehouse shutter, he couldn’t help but think that they should’ve eliminated him right from the start. That way he won’t, can’t, harm them any more than he already had.

Perhaps if the blood of the devil wasn’t flowing through his veins and seeping out of his body, he could have met them, could have met  _ him _ , in better circumstances and they would have been great friends.

A drop had slipped down to his cheek, he raised a hand to touch it assuming it was blood. He laughed upon seeing his hand.  _ Tears! _ He let out a chuckle cut short by coughs. When was the last time he cried? When his mum died? When he realised he was all on his own? When he discovered who his disgrace of a father was? He doesn’t remember. All he knows is that his bottled up emotions are now spilling all over like the blood from his wounds.

Offered redemption by his enemies, but killed by his own father. The irony of it all made him want to laugh, cry, scream — blame it on whatever god or demon that gave him this wretched life.

Blood is thicker than water, they say.

Is it really though?

In a pool of both, how could he ever know?

He longed to stay.

**_Five._ **

“See you guys tomorrow!” Ann enthusiastically said, concluding their final meeting as the Phantom Thieves.

They each took their leave and said goodbye to Akira as they exited Leblanc.

He set his eyes on the spaced-out Akechi motionless in his seat. He approached him, asking if he was okay.

Akechi snapped out of whatever trance he was in, “ _ Oh, _ yeah. I’m fine. I apologise for spacing out. I’ll be leaving now.” He stood up, to which Akira replied by placing his hand on Akechi’s shoulder, making him sit back down onto the stool.

“I have something to give you.” Was all Akira said before heading towards the stairs and waving his hand at Akechi, telling him to follow him up the stairs.

“What — “ As soon as Akechi had arrived upstairs, Akira threw him his glove. Akechi caught it without missing a beat. He smiled softly upon inspecting what he had caught. “You really…”

Akira smiled smugly and shrugged. “I keep my promises.”

Akechi rolled his eyes at him before settling his focus onto the glove. “We’ve come such a long way from this haven’t we.”

Akira teased, “Have we?” He sauntered over to the couch with his hands in his pocket and Akechi followed after, sitting beside him. 

Akechi frowned at his joke, “Now that I think about it, no.” and threw the glove back at him.

Akira chuckled, his hands raised up to defend himself from the flying glove. “I’m kidding.” 

“Enough with the joking already. I know you didn’t call me up here just to give that back.” Akechi turned his head and stared at the dark eyes behind the thick rimmed glasses.

Akira inhaled deeply. “Will you  _ please _ stay.” Akira couldn’t keep the heaviness of his heart from flowing into his voice. He turned to Akechi and looked him straight into the eye. “ _ Please.” _ Akira repeated.

“Okay,” Akechi replied plainly, standing up as he did.

Akira exasperatedly sighed, following Akechi around the room. “Oh, come on! We have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow and — wait did you just agree?” 

Akechi shook his head, amused, as he sat on the bed. “Your idiocy continues to surprise me to this day.”

He finally stayed.

They laid on opposite ends of the bed, backs turned to each other. 

“Night.”

“You too.”

“...”

“...”

Akira’s eyes widened at the feeling of Akechi’s forehead pressed to his back, before melting into a soft look.

“Thank you.” Akira swore he'd never heard Akechi sound like this before, so honest and unguarded. It was as if Akechi had finally broken through the walls he had built around himself.

Akira shuffled and turned around, wrapping an arm around Akechi. He squirmed in Akira’s arms. “What are you — “

Akira smiled contentedly as he held him tighter every time he tried to pull away. “Good night.” 

Akechi figured that there was no way out of this and gave up. With a sigh he replied, “Good night.”  
  


His feet were warm in the morning.

Akira doesn't know whether it was because of the extra body in his bed or the feeling of being beside the one he loves manifesting itself into radiating warmth.

He’s awake but he kept his eyes closed. Relishing in the silence and the darkness right before the sun dawns on a new day — and perhaps their last day.

He knew that after today, after they steal Maruki’s heart, Akechi may be gone forever — perhaps, he already is.

But even so, Akira shut his eyes tighter to block out the light from the rising sun and with that the fact that outside these sheets, he and Akechi could never be. He’ll lie to himself, he’ll make believe that outside this fantasy, this scene could become an everyday reality. 

He knows that he has to get up soon and the literal man of his dreams will be torn away from his arms but he held him closer as if that would do anything to prevent him from slipping through his grasp. And he’ll continue to play pretend, as if they haven’t reached their end

Even if Akechi is truly gone and the body sleeping soundly in his arms is just a materialisation of his twisted desires, his “dream reality” as Maruki would call it, is just a dream, don’t wake him.

Even if the tan hair tickling his nose; the arms wrapped snugly around his waist; his numb arm resting under Akechi’s head; their synchronised breathing; and their legs all tangled up together is just a dream. Don’t. At least, not yet.

_ Even if this is all just a damn dream. _

_ Just five more minutes. _

— 

His feet were cold in the morning.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> fun fact #2: honeyed-fruit blend is one of fe3h yuri's favourite tea blends


End file.
